Chapter 17
When Sinderel opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was his hand being tightly clasped.
He twitched unconsciously. His palms were hot, a scorching heat he had never felt before.
He was still not used to such closeness, so he pulled his hand away, waking up the sleeping Opesa.
"Hmm..." Opesa frowned slightly, and her narrow eyes opened slightly. A cluster of sunlight shone into her purple pupils, reflecting a faint and pure light.
Seeing Xindrel awake, she raised her eyebrows, forced her eyelids open and greeted him, "Good morning... Are you still feeling unwell?"
She was still very tired and her eyes were almost closed, but her first reaction was to worry about Sinderel - her poor daughter who was not related to her by blood.
Fatigue did not escape Xindrell's eyes. Xindrell was silent for a moment, moved away a little, stood up, and then said, "No."
"Oh." Opesa smiled with relief, but the sleepiness still oppressed her nerves. She finally couldn't resist and fell asleep again.
Seeing that she had fallen asleep, Xindrel tentatively stretched out his index finger and knocked on the wooden bed. After confirming that she was asleep, he walked around her and got out of bed from the end.
He first observed the room, looking for peepholes or mechanisms in the corners and hidden places. After confirming that the room was safe, he checked the pockets of the clothes hanging on the clothes rack to dry. When he found that Opesa had no money, he couldn't help but feel confused.
How did she get in here?
As he pondered, his eyes fell on the table in the middle.
The sunlight after the clear sky was exceptionally bright, shining directly on the blade of his dagger placed on the table.
The cold light was impossible to ignore. When the dazzling light pierced his retina, his originally calm heart paused for a few seconds.
The dagger lay on the red-stained cloth, making it look even more terrifying.
Sinderel quickly stepped forward and picked up the dagger. The tip of the knife accidentally lifted the cloth, revealing half of the shriveled tongue.
Without thinking too much, that tongue is definitely Holly's.
He probably knew how Opesa was able to live here.
No one dares to disguise himself as a killer unless that person is desperate or a complete fool.
How could an identity that allows one to walk around freely in Furlan have no identification marks? It is normal for outsiders not to know, but this is the black market, how could those cunning and treacherous people who live on the edge of a knife be easily deceived?
What proves his identity is the dagger awarded by the Assassin's Association.
The dagger looked no different from an ordinary dagger. The only difference was that the handle was made of the sacred tree that grew in the center of the church.
God hates killing, but needs people to purge heretics. They are God's shadow, abandoning those who are redeemed by God, bearing the sins of God, and falling into hell forever.
But such an identity must never be known to outsiders. Religious people fear them, but also hate them. In people's eyes, they are representatives of Satan and messengers who follow the god of death like a shadow.
The killer has forever lost the right to walk under the sun, even if it is forced, even if it is to survive.
He wasn't sure whether Opesa knew his identity, nor did he know whether she would be more afraid and disgusted with him after knowing his true identity.
They even made his identity public, kicked him out of his home, exposed him to the condemnation of others, and then expelled and executed him by the association.
He held the dagger and stared coldly at Opesa who was sleeping soundly and didn't know how her trouble would end.
His first rule is survival.
He would do anything to survive.
Sindriel slowly approached the bed.
She was sleeping very soundly, her subtle breathing sounds rising and falling with her body, her red lips slightly parted, looking rosy and tender even without lip balm.
She barely slept on a pillow, and the quilt wasn't covering her much. Her back, wrapped in her inner clothes, was exposed to the air, and the extra quilt was all on her other side, where Sinderel had just lain. Her sleeping space was incredibly narrow; it was clearly the length of a double bed, but she was on the edge of falling off if she rolled over.
She wasn't short, but now she looked especially small, curled up, her hands folded before her as if in prayer. Perhaps from the cold, her face was a little pale, but she refused to pull the blanket over herself.
The hand holding the dagger slowly sank and finally hung at his side.
The tip of the knife that was always used for slaughter slowly lifted the quilt and slowly covered Opesa.
Having done this, Sinderel turned and left the room.
He didn't want to kill her, yet.
He wanted to take a gamble.
Bet on whether she will still treat him the same way when she knows everything.
…
Opesha was woken up by the system sound in her brain.
She was still dreaming of delivering Sinderel to the palace and feasting herself, when suddenly a loud speaker floated in the sky, blaring a frantic alarm. The chicken drumstick in her hand instantly vanished, and the scene shifted from the magnificent palace to a desolate desert. She was buried in the sand, awaiting death from dehydration.
Not far away, Sinderel was laughing at himself in a beautiful dress.
She woke up suddenly and found that the horn was the system alarm in her mind.
[Hint! Hint! The character design is seriously ooc, and new tasks will be accepted soon!]
[Please slap Sindriel within the time limit to meet the required viciousness value]
Opesha:?
What kind of a lousy task was this? She worked like a slave to take Sinderel to the shelter in the heavy rain, and took care of him all night long without sleep. Not only did she get no thanks for her work, but she also had to lose all the goodwill she had worked so hard to earn.
Did he think her life was worthless? Or did he want to make Sinderel think his life was worthless?
After finally saving him, she got slapped in the face? She might as well not have saved him last night.
She was already exhausted from a night of tossing and turning, and now she couldn't even sleep in. Frustrated, Opesa clutched her forehead and climbed out of bed. After a moment's rest, she realized the quilt had completely covered her. She reached out and felt around—empty. Sinderel was gone.
The last bit of sleepiness disappeared, and she immediately turned to look inside the room. A familiar voice sounded softly, "Awake?"
Sinderel was sitting in a chair, fully dressed, facing her, as if he had been waiting for her to wake up.
The table was filled with toiletries and bread, and the sweet smell of honey. Opesa swallowed, wanting to say something but stopping herself: "You..."
When did he wake up? Where did he get the money to buy bread and honey?
She wanted to ask these questions, but Xindrell had already prepared the words and said, "I just woke up. These are prepared by the boss."
"Oh." Opesa swallowed her doubts. It made sense. After all, she was using the identity of a killer. It was normal for the boss to prepare bread early out of fear.
But new problems arise.
She hadn't had time to think about it last night because of Sinderell, but now that she was awake, that thought occupied her mind more directly.
It was strange that the boss didn't believe she was a killer at first, but later believed her words.
She was sure that some identification had been revealed.
The objects on the stage at that time, besides Holly's ear, were the dagger in Sinderel's hand.
Perhaps because she was too focused, she couldn't control her gaze and looked directly at the dagger in Xindrel's hand.
The dagger suddenly spun, and Opesa finally came back to her senses. Realizing that her gaze was inappropriate, she immediately made an excuse, saying, "Although there's no need to report this to you, your dagger is quite good and very useful." She forced a yawn and got out of bed with tears in her eyes. "The wooden bed is really hard. I think a weak bone like you is more suitable for this environment."
She was too guilty to look Sinderel in the eye, and quickly walked past Sinderel to the clothes rack, picked up the clothes and planned to change.
Opesa originally planned to ignore Sinderel and change clothes directly, but the gaze behind her was too sharp, and her mentality was not strong enough to block it directly, so she wanted to wait for the guy to consciously look away.
After waiting for a long time, she still didn't wait for the other party to withdraw his gaze. She was speechless and turned around and said angrily: "Hey, who allowed you to be so rude..."
Boom.
The sheathed dagger stuck into the wooden wall on the right.
His pupils reflected an infinitely magnified green color, but he did not swallow it all. He still maintained a suitable distance, as if giving Opesa the last courtesy.
Opesa was confined to his space, and her panic quickly subsided. She put on a calm expression and asked, "What are you trying to do next?"
The other party seemed to be thinking for a moment, his pupils were a little unfocused, and his wrist bones turned slightly, making a crisp clicking sound.
He always hides a madness beneath his calmness, and is not as mechanical and indifferent as he appears on the surface. He will rack his brains to think about something difficult to understand, and if he can't get an answer, he will block her and ask her, just like now.
He wanted to ask if she knew his secret.
And what are you thinking?
Do you really think he is cruel, so cruel that he doesn't even have the chance to see an angel?
Although inquiry is silent, so is suspicion.
He once again stood before her like an interrogator, staring at her cheek without emotion, trying to find any flaws in her face.
Anxiety. Opesa felt only anxiety.
The look was too much like an interrogation, like being stripped naked and tortured in public. It was unbearable, but he still stared at her relentlessly, never saying a word.
Pop.
Opesa couldn't stand it any longer and slapped him in the face, then pushed him out of the door forcefully: "Get out! You rude little girl!"
[Ding——Mission Completed]
As the door slammed shut, a message sounded, signaling mission completion. Opesa breathed a sigh of relief, unfolded her clothes, and began to change.
She didn't use any harsh force, she was simply afraid of the scrutinizing look.
That was the look one gives to prey. How could she not be afraid?
She didn't know whether her secret had been exposed, but one thing was certain: Sinderel definitely realized that she knew something about him.
The dagger that he almost never leaves his body must be connected to the Assassin's Association.
Sindriel is a killer...?
Thinking of this, Opesa couldn't help but feel a chill down her spine.
Although it was almost certain, she had always been a cautious person and did not want to confirm a result without accurate evidence, even if the accuracy reached 90%.
She wanted to confirm it herself and understand it herself.
Not only to survive, but also for the unsolved mystery in her heart.
The mystery of Sindrel's life experience.
Although assassins hold a pivotal position in the entire Furland, they are also considered the "most dangerous people," and everyone hates them more than they fear them. Because you never know when you will be targeted, and then you won't even be able to find the murderer.
Opesa, however, relishes such danger.
She really enjoyed the feeling of being a hunter who thought he had victory, but was actually suppressed by his prey.
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